Small and petite
by elizabeth duchanne
Summary: Small little Malta Is England's little sister. Everyone thinks she is a joke. Will anyone take her side?


Many people, including myself would believe that when you are asked to a meeting that it would be a room filled with business and business only. Haha, the idea of that in kind of conference I went for would be nothing but a idiotic and false assumption. But, don't worry I thought the same thing before what I heard in the hallway. What I heard in the walkway to the conference room was anything but orderly conduct, it was true madness. No, not the good kind of madness either, the chaotic kind.

The thick noise of my heels rang throughout the halls and the faint noise of yelling did as well. A girl with white hair and Piercing blue eyes gave me a long glance as she ran passed me. I made a mental note of not to mess with her.

The wooden heel of my shoe dug into my skin to the point where it was very and I mean very Uncomfortable. The only reason why I wore these bloody heels is so that I could look somewhat intimating. My hight was not one of my strong suits, that and the fact that I just want peace. No wonder why I was so poor.

I heard thick yells as I stood in front of the wooden door. I hopped for a moment before reaching the handle. All it took was a slight creek before all the ruckus to come pouring in. I froze as I felt a strong arm pull me down into a chair. The man was tall and had on a crisp green suit. " malta what in the bloody hell are you doing here?" He whispered. Obviously being drowned out by all the yelling and screaming of the other countries. I smiled and stifled a small laugh. " well big brother, I was invited to this conference." I looked around the room, various countries very have discrete conversations.

" everyone shut the fuck up or I will fucking kill every single one of you, got it and I'm not joking because I have a knife in my damn purse." A tall women with tan skin and dark hair screamed. I squeaked and put my face in my brothers jacket. " what the hell are you going to do to us San huh, that's right nothing." A man named Prussia screamed. San slammed her hands on the table before showing off the knife in her purse. I froze and felt water start to fill my eyes. England stroked my hair awkwardly as if I was a child again crying from a nightmare. " I told you not to come here." Of course he is gloating now of all times.

A man with tan skin as well and chocolate brown hair approached me. " ay señorita your cheeks are bigger than Romano." He said poking them and squeezing them. I looked at England. " is this sexual harassment?" A man with long blonde hair quickly appeared next to me. " bonjour who are you." The women whose name is San stopped yelling at Prussia for a moment. " how old are you girl." She yelled at me instead. " I m two hundred years old." I shuddered. " two hundred.. She is a baby! France do you want to go down as a pedophile. Or if you prefer to have me kick your ass. Leave her the fuck alone." France moved away slowly.

" quiet, everyone! Each one of you will have thirty minutes for a speech. No side notes. Any questions." I really wanted to raise my hand , but no England would be mad. I watched as a small hand entered the air. " Germany recognizes zis friend Italy." The man smiled before screamed so joyously " PASTA." My head shot up. Pasta, did he say pasta! England recognized my glance before placing his hands on my shoulder. America stared at me for a brief second. " dude who is this chick.!" I froze... I only knew him from long embellished stories.

England grew pale as he tried to push me down father in my seat. " um who are you speaking about, I don't know any um chick." I looked up. " um dude the girl your pushing under." I looked up smiling. " I'm Malta." England looked as if he would kill me if he had not been apart of my life. " so your like friends with benefits right." I paused not knowing the answer. England whispered to me what it was. I froze, angered at the idea. " no actually we are brother and sister." San walked over knife in hand. " little Malta why are you here?" Fury rang in her voice. " was invited." I stuttered. " now vhy would we invite such a small small little country, hm."

" San don't be so mean to Malta." England stated as he wiped my tears from my face. " she is weak and useless, get out ." I blinked. The pasta man looked at me sadly. " why." " get the hell out before I slit you throat got it." I nodded before removing my shoes and walking out. Why am I so small and useless?


End file.
